


Punishment

by kansas_byrne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark!John Winchester, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Forced Piss Drinking, Incest, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 23:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17948948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kansas_byrne/pseuds/kansas_byrne
Summary: Dean's fucked up. He can be sent away, or he can take his punishment. Dean doesn't want to be sent away.





	Punishment

Dean kneels, in the dark, arms bound so tightly behind his back that the feeling was leeching out of them. Legs spread, just the way he was put. He’d been there so long that every muscle was cramping, but he daren’t move. Everything,  _ everything _ will be worse if he moves. 

Waiting. The voices in the outer room had been silent a while. Sam’s probably safely in the library by now. He hangs his head and tries to stop thinking about it. Thinking about it only made it worse.

Outside, the door slams. He can hear the lock click firmly into place, and the footsteps, slowly, coming. The door to his prison opens, and his father is there, silhouetted in the frame, lit from behind by the weak yellow light of the crappy motel-suite “living room”. His belt is in his hands, and he  _ cracks _ it. A promise.

Coming forward, he unzips his fly, the sound long and drawn out to Dean, whose blood is pounding in his ears now. Everything is a little slow. John tips his chin back, slips a thumb into his mouth, pushing in and out slowly. Dean opens it obediently.

John jacks himself slowly. His voice is all salty, beer stained growl. “You know what I want. You fucked up, boy. You begged not to be sent away again, so this is what you get.”

Dean nods, ignoring the tears making their way down his face. They come whether he wants them to or not. Best to ignore it. He sticks his tongue all the way out, and John grunts in approval. He shuffles forward so his cock is resting on Dean’s tongue and keeps his hand on it, pumping.

“Sam’s gonna be gone all afternoon and most of the night. I got time for a couple of things. It’s been ages since I’ve had that tight ass, boy. But first…”

His eyes close, and he stops  talking, already close. He must have been thinking about this in the car, rubbing himself through his jeans the whole ride back. Dean waits, closes his eyes. Nothing stings for fucking ever like come, and John won’t stop to help him.

All it takes is a couple of pulls, and then John’s got Dean’s hair in one fist as he comes silently, spraying all over his tongue and his face before shoving all the way into his throat in one brutal thrust, making him swallow desperately.

It isn’t over. Dean knows what’s next, the beer smell made it clear, and he can’t stop the tears. John grins in the dark, he  _ purrs _ , “Yes. Fuck you, boy, take it.”

There’s a pause as his body switches gears, and then, pushing so his still mostly hard cock is firmly nestled in Dean's throat, he pisses. He lets go, and it’s like a fountain, choking him, piss going up his nose and stinging him with stink and ammonia. John lets out an orgasmic groan, emptying himself into Dean’s mouth. He struggles to swallow it all desperately. The alternative is worse. If he spits, or throws it up, John’s punishment is…anyway, he swallows it.

Eventually, he pulls out with a satisfied grunt. The discarded belt is fastened around Dean’s throat like a leash, and he’s made to awkwardly crawl on his knees into the other room, blinking owlishly at the light.

John sits in a chair, and puts on the tv. Dean kneels beside him, waiting. His father is older, but he still has a great refractory period. He’ll be hard again soon, and his ass is next.

Dean waits.


End file.
